Civil War Deleted Scenes
by TheVelvetRose 1120
Summary: My interpretation of the characters before, during, and after the events of Civil War as well as scenes that I wish were included in the film. A collection of one-shots all Civil War-related and related to each other. SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR. You have been warned.
1. Broken Promises

**A/N. Hello, everyone! Welcome to my Civil War snippets. I absolutely LOVED the movie, but there were a lot of moments that I wanted to see that weren't in the film. What happened to Pepperony? What happened between AoU and CW with Vision and Wanda? Where did Natasha go? Etc. So this is where I will explore those characters and those situations teased in the film. Please enjoy :D**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything**

 _Who's strong and brave here to save the American way?_

Clint jumped in surprise, dropping the screwdriver onto his other hand. "Ow! Fuck!"

 _Who vows to fight like a man for what's right night and day?_

He scrambled for the phone, wildly shaking his left hand in an attempt to cool the burning pain in his knuckles. The device clattered off the table and onto the floor.

 _Who will campaign door-to-door for America?_

He dove after it, dropping to his hands and knees. Shit. Where'd it go?

 _Carry the flag shore to shore for America?_

 _From Hoboken to Spokane!_

There! He grabbed it.

 _It's the-_

"Hey, Cap. What's up?" He asked, standing and brushing himself off.

 _"Hi, Clint. How's Laura and the kids?"_

Clint knew immediately that was something was off. Steve's voice was cautiously casual. "They're fine. What's wrong?"

There was a pause in which Steve was probably mulling over whether or not he should even bother trying to deny it. Finally, a sigh came over the phone " _You know I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't important."_

"Aw, man!" Clint dropped the screws he was still holding from before onto the table. Some of them rolled over the edge. He couldn't bring himself to care. "Steve, I'm _retired_. I know you don't understand the concept of that word since you've never taken a break in your life-"

 _"Not true."_

"- but it means that you can't call me on missions anymore. I've spent enough time away from my family as it is."

Steve sighed again. _"I get it, Clint. I do."_ Steve remained undeterred at Clint's snort of disbelief. _"But we need your help."_

Clint saw where he was going with this. "Don't. Don't you dare pull that card-"

 _"And we're your family too."_

"God damn it!" Clint fell into his office chair as if fainting from the sheer irritation "You're evil," he grumbled.

He could almost _hear_ the shit-eating grin on the other end. " _That's debateable_." Then things turned serious again _. "Clint, the government wants the Avengers to work under a governing body."_

That was not the kind of thing he was expecting from this call. "What? Did they not see how SHIELD turned out?"

 _"General Ross is promising that it was a one-time thing and blames it all on Hydra."_

"Wait, General Ross? As in 'guy-who-chased-Bruce-for-years-and-nearly-killed-him' General Ross?"

 _"That's the one."_

"What the fuck?"

 _"President Ellis has made him the new Secretary of State."_

"What. The. _Fuck_."

 _"I know. But that's not the worst of it."_

Clint threw his back, scrubbing a hand down his face. "I'm beginning to see why you called." When Steve didn't continue, Clint lifted his head. "Hello?"

 _"I'm still here."_ He hesitated. Steve _never_ hesitated. _"Ross and Tony are working together."_

"What?!"

 _"For what it's worth, Tony really is trying to do the right thing."_

"Because him doing the right thing always turns out so _great_."

 _"The important part is that he's trying. After Ultron… he's carrying a lot of guilt. He and Pepper split. Things aren't going well for him and all he wants to do is make it better. But he's going about it the wrong way."_

"I'll say."

 _"He believes that giving the Avengers oversight will prevent disasters like Ultron from happening again."_

"Well I have to say that I disagree."

There was a smile in Steve's voice. _"I was hoping you'd say that. But there's more."_

Clint sighed, resigned to his fate. Laura was going to be upset, but she'd understand – which somehow made the whole thing worse. He started rubbing at his temples. These guys were going to give him grey hairs. "Lay it on me."

" _In addition to controlling the Avengers' every move, the government also wants to register every enhanced in the country and put them on a list."_

"A list?" That didn't sound good.

 _"It's a record of all the enhanced so that they can 'take precautions'."_

It suddenly dawned on him why Steve was _really_ calling. "Wanda."

" _Tony's got her locked up at the base. Vision's her guard dog."_

"Locked up?" Confusion laced his brows together. Wanda was too powerful to be kept in a cage. He'd like to see Tony _try_.

Steve sighed. _"It's complicated. Something happened on a mission. People died. Wanda feels guilty. I have a hunch she's staying there of her own free will, but there's no way that's good for her. She needs to see that she's not someone to be feared and she needs to be able to show others that."_

"So what are you gonna do?"

 _"Vision will see me coming a mile away. I need someone who knows his way around the base to infiltrate it and get Wanda out of there."_

Clint cared about Wanda. He really did. But he still didn't see why he, specifically, was needed for this mission. "Can't one of the other Avengers do it? What about Nat?" Several beats of silence followed his question during which a herd of elephants trampled through the living room upstairs. Clint pressed the phone to his shoulder and tilted his head upward. "Hey, settle down up there! Daddy's on the phone!" He vaguely heard Laura's chastising voice from upstairs before replacing the phone by his ear. "Sorry."

 _"Natasha agrees with Tony."_

That caught him off guard. "She does?"

 _"She knows we made a lot of mistakes, caused a lot of destruction. Lost people along the way."_

"She can't expect us to save everyone every time. It's logistically impossible."

 _"Maybe. But it's something to strive for. The Sokovia Accords – that's what they're calling it – have split the team right down the middle. People are taking sides."_

"And she sided with _Stark_?"

" _She's fighting for what she believes is right. And I'm proud of her for that."_

"Let me talk to her. I'll talk some sense into her."

 _"No, Clint. She's made up her mind. I need you to talk to Wanda."_

"You said there are other people on your side, right? Get one of them to get her out and then I'll talk to her."

 _"Like I said earlier: Vision will be expecting us. He knows who agrees with me and which of us is most likely to come for her. But he won't expect you."_

Clint frowned. "Are you sure about that?"

 _"No. But Wanda will listen to you. She doesn't deserve to be treated like this. It's internment. She needs you."_

He sighed again, kicking his legs up onto the desk, where the closet door he'd been trying to fix still lay. "How long's she been there?"

" _About a day."_

"And who else is there?"

 _"No one that I know of. It's getting dark over there. The workers should be leaving. It should be just the two of them. I… don't think the rest of us will be coming back."_

Clint sensed the sadness in that statement. "Who's on whose side?"

 _"Natasha, Vision, and Rhodey are with Tony. Sam's with me. He said he knows a guy so maybe one more. And you, I assume."_

"You assume correctly. And once I get Wanda, we'll probably have her." He paused. "You know, taking sides usually means that those two sides are gonna clash one day."

 _"I know. But there's something else."_

"What is it?"

 _"Bucky may be on our side."_

It took Clint a second for the words to register. "Bucky? As in the Winter Soldier? As in ex-Hydra assassin? As in _brainwashed_ ex-Hydra assassin?"

 _"As in my best friend? Yes, Clint._ That _Bucky."_

"So you finally found him? And he's free?"

 _"Long story. Get Wanda and I'll tell you later."_

"Steve, I'm supposed to take my kids water skiing tomorrow," he whined.

 _"I will pay for you to go next time. Please. Wanda needs you_."

Clint sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as it was starting to hurt. "Fine. For Wanda."

 _"For Wanda,"_ Steve agreed _. "And one more thing."_

Clint groaned. "Steve!"

 _"I need you to drop by San Francisco and pick up a guy named Scott Lang"_

"Is this Sam's guy you mentioned earlier?"

 _"Yeah. We could use him."_

"Steve…"

 _"You know the Accords are wrong. You don't have to fight with me. In fact, I don't want you to. Go back to your family immediately after getting Wanda. Tell her to get Lang. But I need you for this one thing. Please."_

He was going to regret this. "Fine."

 _"I'll text you the details."_

"Right. Okay. And I'll just fly over with my private jet," he said sarcastically.

 _"We both know you have a quinjet stashed somewhere over there."_ He paused. _"Also, we're in Berlin."_

"Steve!"

 _"Did I forget to mention that?"_

Clint grumbled to himself.

 _"I can hear you."_

Clint ignored him. "And how am I supposed to take on Vision? The guy has a space rock in his face that shoots lasers. _Lasers_."

 _"Actually, they're psionic beams_." Clint was unamused _. "Some advice: try not to."_

"Gee, thanks Cap. I see why everyone says you're the best strategist in the world."

Laughter echoed in Clint's ear. _"Try not to engage at all."_

"Your faith in my skills is astounding." But he may have some trick arrows that could help. How ironic that something Tony created would be used to take out something Tony created – not only that, but an android who was on Tony's side.

 _"Hey, you asked."_

"And I regretted it immediately." Clint's feet thunked as they hit the floor. He stood and began making his way upstairs. "You owe me for this, Rogers."

 _"I know. Thank you, Clint._ "

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you in a few hours." He pressed _END_ just as he entered the upstairs living room. "Honey!" He called, looking around at the mess of toys scattered all over the carpet.

"In the kitchen!" She called back.

He meandered over to the adjacent room and found his wife tending to a pasta of some sort at the stove. Setting the phone on the counter, he made his way over and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a kiss on her head.

"Uh oh. Sadly-affectionate Clint has made an appearance again. What's wrong?" She twisted in his arms to look him in the eye.

He exhaled. "I got called in."

She blinked, the wooden spoon in her hands ceasing to stir. "But you're retired."

"I know that and you know that and _he_ knows that and yet… They can't seem to work without me." He shrugged, trying to play it off like it was no big deal.

He didn't want to go. Of course he wanted to help Wanda. Of _course_. But he retired for a _reason_. These past few weeks of retirement had been amazing and he never wanted them to end. Sure, he missed the ache in his arms from firing his bow and the rush of adrenaline as he scaled buildings and the feeling of satisfaction whenever an arrow hit its mark but his kids were more important. He'd already missed so much time with them. He'd been in Sokovia during Cooper's birthday and he'd been fighting Chitauri during Lila's. He didn't want to waste any more time.

Laura placed the spoon off to the side and turned off the stove before turning and wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands slid around to her back and he gently moved them away from the stove. "They really need you, huh?" She whispered, understanding in her voice and disappointment in her eyes.

That stung. "They can't seem to get anything done without me." He half-smirked.

Laura pressed one of her hands to his heart, right over the pocket in his flannel shirt. "As long as it's important."

"Of course." He kissed her forehead. "I would never leave otherwise."

"You're leaving?" Clint and Laura turned to see Lila in the doorway, holding an empty cup. Her eyes turned glassy. "But- but we're going water skiing tomorrow."

Clint's heart broke in two. He knelt down and opened his arms. She ran at him, throwing her arms around his neck, clinging to him. He grunted and shifted her weight before standing, holding her securely to him. "I won't be gone long. Not like last time. I promise."

She sniffed. "But what about tomorrow?"

"We'll go some other time." He brushed her hair back, softly stroking her head. "And we'll bring Auntie Nat. What do you think about that?"

Lila sniffled again. "Okay."

"Alright. C'mon, spider monkey. Go climb the trees or something. Your daddy's getting old." He set her down next to the sink as she giggled.

"Okay, Daddy." She rubbed away a few stray tears and deposited her cup on the counter before running out the side door. It swung shut behind her.

"You know she's just going to tell Cooper and then we'll have to do this all over again," Laura pointed out.

Clint sighed. "I know." He walked over to little Nathanial, sitting in his high chair at the kitchen table. He gurgled and waved his little arms and legs around, messing with a rattle and banging it on the tray. "Hey there, squirt." He brushed Nathanial's nose with his large finger. Nathanial smiled and giggled, squealing and squirming with more enthusiasm. Spit dribbled down the sides of his mouth. Clint took the bib and gently wiped it away. "Daddy has to go away for a few days," he explained quietly. "But Daddy'll be back. And then you and I are going to prove to Mommy that I can get that airplane of food through those hangar doors, huh?" He tickled Nathanial's mouth with his index finger.

Nathanial bubbled with laughter and reached for his dad, wrapping his tiny fingers around Clint's calloused pointer finger. He dropped the rattle and reached with both hands.

Clint smiled. "Got a good grip, there, son. You'll make a good archer one day." He kissed Nathanial's head and stood.

Laura had an exasperated look on her face. "Not all of your children need to be archers, Clint."

"One of them will like it. I know they will."

"Cooper doesn't."

"Lucky for him, I have Lila and Nathanial."

She shook her head. "You're incorrigible."

He grinned and wrapped her up in his arms. "And you love me."

"That I do." They shared a brief kiss before pulling away. "Be careful, okay?"

"Always." He started walking for the door to his room.

"And Clint?"

He started climbing the stairs. "Hm?"

"Have fun out there."

He paused, one foot hovering above the one stair that always creaked.

"I know you miss it," she admitted, coming around the corner and into view at the bottom of the stairs. "It's a part of you."

He… didn't know what to say.

"You're an Avenger. No matter how retired you say you are, the world will always need you. And I'm okay with that."

Speechless, Clint blinked at her.

"Go be a hero. Be someone our kids can look up to. Go be you."

Clint's feet pounded down the stairs as he surged forward and kissed his wife, passion overcoming him for those few, precious seconds. Then it was over and he was already up the stairs. Laura smiled and wiped away a single tear.

"Mommy?"

She turned to find Cooper in the doorway. "Yes, sweetie?"

"Lila says that Daddy's leaving."

She smiled sadly at him. "That's right. Daddy has to go away for a few days."

"But Daddy promised!" He stomped his foot on the hardwood floor. "He promised no more missions!"

"Daddy is a very important person. His team needs him to-"

"No!" He screamed.

"Cooper," she warned.

"No!" He screamed again. "I don't care how important daddy is! He _promised_!"

"He won't be gone long-"

"I don't wanna go water skiing anymore! Daddy's a big fat liar!" Cooper turned on his heel and stormed off.

"Cooper!" Laura made to take off after him, but a hand on her shoulder held her back.

Clint stood on the first step behind her, his quiver over his shoulder and his bow in one hand. "I'll talk to him." He kissed her one more time and then took off at a jog through the kitchen and out the side door.

It was mid afternoon and the sun was blazing brightly in a crystal clear sky. Lila was swinging dejectedly on the tire swing he'd built for her last year. Without looking up from the shapes she was making in the dirt with her shoes, she pointed to the barn.

Clint ran up to her and kissed her on the head. "Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye, Dad."

He jogged over to the barn. The door was ajar. He slipped inside, barely moving it to do so. It was dark, as there were no windows, but he could hear the animals chewing and moving in their stalls. "Cooper?" He called.

No response.

Clint was pretty sure he knew where his son was. He walked to the other end of the barn and peered into the very last stall on the left. Cooper's horse stood there lazily, blinking and occasionally munching on the hay. "Hi there, Mickey." Clint opened the door and stepped inside, petting Mickey's mane. "Have you seen Cooper? He's doing what I used to do when I was a kid. I used to run to the shed in the backyard and lock myself inside so my dad couldn't get to me." It was for _very_ different reasons, but that was neither here nor there.

Something shifted and then sniffed to the right.

Clint bent down squinted in the darkness. Cooper sat curled up in a ball, fists clenched tightly and his head on his knees. "Cooper, buddy-"

"I don't want to talk to you," he whined.

"Then don't talk to me. Let _me_ talk to _you_."

Cooper groaned. "No."

"Yes. Now scoot over."

Cooper didn't.

Clint squished himself between Mickey and Cooper and plopped down on the ground, leaning his back against the wall. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

"I am. It may not look like it, but I am."

"Then when are you going? Why are you going if you're sorry, huh?"

"I'm going because I have people that I care about that need me."

"You care about us don't you? What about us?"

"Of course I do. But there's a whole world outside this farm that you haven't experienced yet. I know you haven't seen much of it and that's my fault, but I'm doing this to keep people safe."

"I don't care about other people! I just care about you."

"You may not care about other people, but other _other_ people do. And this person I'm going to help? It's Wanda."

Cooper stilled. He peered up at his dad. "W-Wanda?"

Clint nodded. "She's in trouble and I'm going to help her."

Cooper hesitated. "Is she hurt?"

"Sort of. She's hurting here." He poked Cooper's heart. "I'm the only one who can talk to her right now. Try and help her."

"… the only one?"

"The only one. You don't want Wanda to hurt, do you?"

It took a second, but Cooper shook his head. "No. I like Wanda. She's teaching me and Lila how to fly."

Clint smiled. "I know she is, bud. But she can't ever come back if she's in trouble."

Cooper's eyes widened. He looked away. "Well… I guess it's okay if you go this one time…"

Clint ruffled Cooper's hair. "Thanks, kid. I owe you one. We'll go water skiing some day. And we'll bring Auntie Nat."

"Can we bring Wanda too?"

"I'll have to ask her, but yes, she can come too."

"What about Thor?" Cooper was getting excited now.

"I don't know about that, but tell you what. Next time I see him? I'll ask him."

Cooper beamed. He threw himself at his dad, who caught him with an "oof!". Cooper squeezed him tight. "Come back soon, Dad."

Clint squeezed back. "I will. I promise."


	2. The Other Side

**A/N. Hello! I'm back with another addition to the Civil War one-shots. I wasn't sure if I was going to come back to this because it's been a while since I've seen the movie now, but I decided that that didn't change the fact that I wanted to write it. So, as a little intro, this scene takes place about six months-ish after the events of Civil War, right around the time the last scene of the Agents of SHIELD season 3 finale happens. (So, spoilers? I guess? If you plan on watching it, I hope you've seen it by now.) I was inspired very, very slightly by the comics (which, surprisingly, I've actually read). But you probably won't even be able to tell. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this "chapter" :)**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything.**

Peter wasn't looking for trouble.

Really, he wasn't.

Aunt May would probably ( _definitely_ ) disagree, but she didn't know the whole story. Actually, maybe it was better that she didn't… Considering how dangerous his day job was.

Or night job.

Whatever.

Peter Parker was a superhero. Not just any superhero either. _Spider-Man._ That's right. He was the wise-cracking, web-slinging, crime-fighting _superhero_. Mentored by Tony freaking Stark _himself_ , Peter was living the life.

Sure, he had two Science tests, an English essay, and a History project due next week, but he was saving lives so you couldn't blame him for putting it off until now. He's been a little busy catching criminals.

"Excuse me! Pardon me!" He shouted, swinging through the busy streets of Manhattan. As always, something occupied every foot of space in this city, which made not hitting anything _really hard_. "Coming through! Hero catching a villain here!" Civilians ducked out of his way as he whipped by.

Well, most of them.

"Hey, watch it! I'm swingin' here!" He yelled behind him, having barely managed to pull himself up enough to avoid clipping some guy on the head. He did manage to catch the man's fedora on his foot, though. Shaking it off (that damn song's gonna get stuck in his head now), Peter flipped as high into the air as he could.

 _There_.

A flash of black and yellow winked into existence about two blocks ahead, leaping too high for any normal human.

That's right. Peter Parker was chasing an _enhanced_.

He was one of the few people on the task force who could, seeing as he himself was enhanced. After the Avengers had escaped from captivity, the government decided that they needed a special task force to bring in enhanced criminals (i.e. the Avengers and co.). This task force would consist of registered super-humans and humans alike, working together to bring the over-powered to justice.

Peter wasn't so sure about the "over-powered" part, but he was all for justice and taking responsibility for your actions.

Even though Iron Man was powerful (and awesome), the government had somehow decided that he wouldn't be on the team. Peter was a little iffy with the details, but something had definitely gone down to make the Stark-Ross relationship suffer.

The team currently consisted of him, Vision, and some human and inhuman volunteers. Peter didn't really get along with most of them (well, he did, but… not enough to want to work with them on a regular basis) but Vision was a cool guy. Which was a weird thing to say about an android, but it was true. Too serious, though. Which was why he and Peter made a great team. One serious guy and one hilarious guy who could both kick ass. Sounded like a pretty solid partnership to Peter.

However, Vision didn't really need a partner. He was pretty… well… all-powerful. Seriously. Any sidekick of his would never have anything to do because the fight would be over before it even started.

But back to Peter and his midday chase through New York City. He was on special assignment to catch this super powered vigilante who was operating without supervision (or permission) of the authorities. Normally, chasing after enhanced criminals was a sign of someone just _looking_ for trouble.

But not Peter Parker. No siree. He was looking to _stop_ it.

Just… ignore the fact that he used to be a vigilante. That was before it was legal to be a superhero so long as you registered. Now he was actually a _legit_ superhero. He had it in writing and everything. Well, the word "superhero" was never actually used, but it was pretty much implied.

The black and yellow blur bounced around a corner and Peter flew after her. She was headed toward a slightly more secluded part of town. Perfect. Just one more swing and-!

He tackled her and the two of them went careening toward the ground. Maybe he hadn't quite thought that through, but he wasn't about to just let go and let her get away. He braced himself for impact.

But it never came.

A strange humming noise shook the very air that surrounded him and he found himself (and the woman) hovering a few feet above the cement, her palms splayed open toward the ground. His eyes widened. So _that_ was how she'd been able to outrun him. She could propel herself using… whatever her power was. Something to do with seizmic vibrations...?

Suddenly the humming stopped and they dropped to the ground. "Oof!" Still, Peter didn't let go. "You're coming with me, Missy," he grunted.

"Don't call me that," she grunted back, elbowing him in the stomach.

On reflex, Peter doubled and loosened his grip. She kicked him in the shin and rolled away. Recovering quickly, Peter flipped to his feet and flung his wrists forwards. Two strings of webs shot out of his wrists and stretched until they latched onto both of the woman's hands, gluing them shut and preventing the use of her powers.

At least, he hoped.

"Gotcha! Let's see what the catch of the day is!" He mimed reeling her back in while actually yanking her toward him. She stumbled closer and he grinned triumphantly. Not that she could see that beneath his mask. He shot more webs at her feet and she wobbled and fell on her butt, subdued and looking very grumpy.

"Let me go, Spider-Boy."

"Spider- _Man_. Come on! My voice changed years ago! It can't be that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

He sighed, putting his hands on his hips. "Well, I'll just have to talk in a lower register for the rest of my life. At least then no one would ever really recognize me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm gonna ask you one more time. Let. Me. Go."

"That didn't sound like asking to me. I didn't even hear the magic word!"

She rolled her eyes.

"Alright, come on. Let's get you back to base." He reached for her but she knocked his hands away.

"Don't touch me!" She spat, scooting backward on the pavement.

Peter faltered, following her at a safe distance. "Uh, look. I'm really not the kind of guy to touch a girl when she doesn't want to be touched, but I mean… I gotta bring you in."

"Oh, you're a gentleman, huh? Says the guy who has me tied up in an alley."

Sure enough, he had somehow managed to chase her into a secluded alleyway between two derelict buildings. They actually had privacy. In _New York_. "Look, Quake, right?" If the headlines of the Daily Bugle were any indicator. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

"Did you seriously just use that line?"

"What? It's a good line."

"Fine. The hard way. Definitely the hard way."

"Suit yourself." He reached for her again.

She knocked him away again. "You're kidding yourself."

Huh? "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You think you're some big shot who saves a cat from a tree and gets adored by everyone? You think stopping some bank robbers and saving kids from fires is going to make people love you?"

"Uh, yeah." That wasn't the reason he did all that stuff, but it was a pretty awesome reward anyway.

"You're wrong. They don't love you. They'll turn on you the second you make a mistake. The second something goes awry. One criminal gets away. That criminal goes on a murder spree. Suddenly it's your fault. And they'll hate you. And you know what's even worse? You'll get _fired_. From being a _superhero_. One screw-up and they'll kick you out because of the bad press. Because of the _one guy_ you let get away."

She couldn't know. She _couldn't_. But her words hit close to home anyway, tiny pellets making dents in his heart. "What do you know?" He shot back. "You're just a vigilante who's too scared to register and actually make her actions _legal_."

She looked up at him with disbelief and something like "I can't believe you're this stupid" written on her face. "You're right. I am a vigilante. And I am scared to register. But did you ever give any thought as to _why?"_

Well… no… not really…

She continued on as if she heard his answer. "If the government has a list of all the inhumans in the country, that is giving them power to do whatever the hell they want with us. As soon as they have our names, our birthdays, our locations, our _families_ , they have _power_ over us. They can _manipulate_ us for their own selfish needs. Wake up, Spidey. The government is _corrupt_. They're afraid of inhumans – of people like us. We're more powerful than them and they can't _stand_ that. So they'll either control us or eliminate us. It is naïve to think that by working with them that they somehow don't fear you. They will _always_ fear you."

"No," he boomed, his fists clenching, shoulders squaring. "You're wrong. You mistake my optimism and faith in humanity as naivety and innocence. I believe that peace comes through compromise. I, as an enhanced person, have compromised in that I have agreed to work for the government to catch others like me, but only others who are unregistered supers and are therefore breaking the law. I am upholding said law and doing right by everyone, not just the non-powered."

She laughed without humour, shaking her head. Black and blue hair swirled around her face. "They've really got you whipped."

Something inside him clamped down. He wasn't sure what it was, but it felt like a metal door falling shut with an air of finality ringing in his ears. "Come on. I'm bringing you in."

"Spidey."

Something in her tone made him pause and he looked at her. _Really_ looked at her. She was actually very pretty, with soft features and warm brown eyes. But her expression was hard and angry and pained. She had to have a past. Everyone did. But he suddenly wanted to know what hers was.

"Think about why you're arresting me. What crime have I committed? The only thing I've been doing that's against the law is the act of being unregistered. Of being _free_. I have been _helping people_. I've been using my powers for good. I've…" She winced. Took a deep breath. "Being different can mean making a difference. I'm doing the exact same thing you were doing six months ago. But because the government doesn't have something on me, they're afraid of me so they sent you to take me in. Throw me in jail when all I've been doing is helping people. If the Accords had never happened and vigilantism was still illegal and you and I were both doing it and the cops wanted to arrest you, tell me you wouldn't resist."

"That's the thing, Earthquake. It _is_ legal."

"So long as you register. But do you really trust them? After the fall of SHIELD? After the Vice-President turned out to be working with the Mandarin? After General Ross, who I have it on good authority fucked up with his involvement in the Hulk incident and then tried to cover it up by making _another Hulk_ to fight him in Harlem, was made _Secretary of State?_ After mayors and politicians and government officials, doctors, lawyers, police officers, people in positions of power were all revealed to be Hydra? Tell me you trust the government implicitly. I dare you."

Peter wanted to say that he did. He really, really wanted to. But he couldn't bring himself to do more than open his mouth and work his jaw. She had a point (maybe several, if he was being honest with himself). The American government didn't have the best track record when it came to national security and supernatural things. And yet here he was, giving them everything there was to know about himself, trusting them not to use that information against him. They knew about Uncle Ben, Aunt May, his parents, what school he went to, who he went to school with…

And he had given them all that. Without even a second thought because he'd been so star-struck by Iron Man coming to visit him. Had it really been the best idea?

Peter might not trust the government, but he trusted Mr. Stark- er, Tony. Tony wouldn't lead him astray or let him do anything that was morally wrong. He was Iron Man. He was an Avenger.

Then again, so was Captain America.

Peter had looked up to both of them for years (even though Iron Man had quickly become his favourite once the Avengers had been assembled for the first time). Tony's heart was in the right place and so was Peter's. That would have to be enough.

"Why are you telling me all this?" He asked, semi-changing the subject.

"Because you seem like a good kid-"

" _Man."_

"-and I want you to do the right thing."

"I _am_ doing the right thing," he retorted, though it felt more like a reflex than an actual argument. He could do better than that. "Registering is only fair. How are super powered people like us supposed to be brought to justice without some kind of measure? A back-up plan? It's only reasonable to want extra measures to keep everyone safe. It would be naïve to think that nothing needed to change after the inhuman outbreak. We _need_ task forces like the one I'm on. We _need_ prisons capable of holding super powered people because there _will_ be enhanced criminals. And there _have been_. Because of the Accords and because of people like me, those criminals have been brought to justice."

"And what about people like me?" She spat, fury igniting a spark in her eyes. The pebbles on the street began to vibrate. "People who refuse to register but haven't done _anything_ wrong?"

"Refusing to register automatically makes you suspicious. Why shouldn't you register? What do you have to hide?"

"Suspicious is different than _criminal!_ And what reasons?! I'll tell you what reasons! Because we don't want to be tagged like _animals!_ We are people too and we deserve the same freedom as everyone else. It is our _right_ to tell you whether or not we are powered. It is our _right_ to tell you whether or not we are an ethnic minority. It is our _right_ to tell you whether we are male, female, or otherwise self-identified."

"That's different! None of those things make you dangerous-"

"You wanna bet?"

"I _want_ to bring you in so we can be done with this conversation."

"Consider it over," she snarled.

The ground began to shake, yanking Peter's legs left and right. His knees got confused and buckled. Pieces of brick began to crumble and slide down the walls on either side of them. The door that had been ajar a few yards away swung open, creaking incessantly. The glass in the window next to it shattered loudly, crashing to the floor in a shimmer of sparkles and sharp daggers.

Quake rolled backward over her shoulder pushed herself to her feet, though they were still bound, as were her hands. Her shadow cast over him, leaving him in darkness and haloing her in sunlight. "It was good to meet you, Spidey," she said, much calmer than she'd been a few seconds ago, though the tremors continued. "I hope someday we'll be on the same side."

Peter blinked. "I- yeah. Yeah, me too."

She nodded at him just as his webbing disintegrated from the intensity of the vibrations. She looked at him one last time, their eyes locking for an instant. Then she crouched, shoved her hands toward the ground, and blasted off, catapulting herself so high that she landed on the roof of the building to the right.

She was gone.

And Peter was alone. The earthquake slowed to a stop and the ground settled. The door continued to swing on its hinges, still creaking. The pavement in front of him was severely cracked and bent; as if a mini meteor shower had taken place not two feet from him.

He had let her go.

All of that chasing through Manhattan, all for nothing. The only thing he got for his efforts was a rather… _enlightening_ discussion. He wanted to go talk to Mr.- uh, Tony. But he knew that would just be him seeking reassurance from someone else about what was ultimately his choice.

This was something he needed to figure out on his own.

He'd been so _sure_ … So completely confident in his choice, about being on Tony's side and not Captain America's. But now…

Someone had finally told him about the other side. He finally had two opposing arguments and the pros and cons to both, as opposed to blind faith in one side. He felt like a fog had been lifted from half his brain, letting him see and assess both sides.

With a sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. He would take the long way home. He had a _lot_ to think about.

And eggs to buy for Aunt May. Oh, and milk.

But mostly he had some thinking to do.


	3. No Good-bye

**A/N. Hello! I'm back with another addition to Civil War that should have been explained in the film but wasn't. Tony and Pepper's split broke my heart and they didn't even say _why_. So this is me trying to make sense of it hopefully leaving open a path to reunion. They are my favourite MCU couple so I really hope they work things out. This takes place pre-Civil War. Enjoy! :D**

 **Disclaimer - I own nothing.**

* * *

Tony promised.

Pepper gave him her permission to break that promise, but still. It felt like he hadn't meant it. Like she was holding him back. Like he didn't want to do it, but she was making him stay behind. Like it was her fault that he wasn't Iron Man anymore.

He never said any of that, of course. He had _some_ tact. But it always felt like maybe he blamed her.

At first it was great. He paid her more attention. He started showing up to board meetings with actual material to contribute. Date Nights became more frequent. She started coaching him through his nightmares or holding him in the mornings. Things were looking up.

But Tony wasn't the same. She thought that would be a good thing, like after he'd come back from Afghanistan, but this was different. Tony was… restless. He was constantly twitching and it was especially annoying when she was trying to cuddle and his muscles kept flexing.

"Muscle spasms," he said. "Side effect of the surgery. Sorry."

That wasn't the only thing he blamed on the surgery. His hands shook often and he dropped things. Coffee mugs. Papers. TV remotes. She sighed whenever she heard a clatter and saw his sheepish smile, half guilt half "you know you love me".

He seemed fine when he was tinkering or fixing things. Dummy was the only one of his three robots to survive the attack on Malibu Point and Tony was determined to bring it back to its former glory. Once it was up and running again, with "brand spanking new parts", Tony seemed satisfied. She would find him talking to it sometimes, whispering to it like he was spilling all his dirty secrets.

Pepper tried not to be offended. Sometimes she felt like he was holding things back from her. She couldn't blame him; not really. Every couple needed some secrets. But it was hard not to feel like the ones he wasn't telling her about were the important ones.

The Avengers, without the oversight of SHIELD, began to act of their own accord. Individually they worked to make the world a better place, never coming together as a team. Pepper could tell that Tony missed being Iron Man. Missed the thrills and the life-and-death situations and the doing _good_.

Pepper certainly did not.

She might miss the blue light emanating from her boyfriend's chest in the middle of the night. She might miss the look on his face when he came home from saving someone, all lit up and bright and proud. She might miss not having him around to offend dignitaries and very important people that she then had to suck up to.

But she did not miss the way he'd come home scraped up, bruised, sometimes close to death, with the armour torn to pieces and the gold near charred to black. She did not miss the excuses he would feed her when he was in his workshop for seventy-two hours straight. She did not miss the way he forgot about Date Night every single week because she wasn't constantly there to remind him.

This was better, she told herself. Better for both of them.

Then Thor came down from Asgard in a flash of lightning and warned them of Loki's missing scepter being in the hands of Hydra and Pepper knew that she couldn't keep Tony on a leash any longer. It was wrong of her to do so in the first place and she told him so. The world needed him much more than she did and even though it hurt, it was the truth.

Tony was Iron Man. He had been ever since he'd blasted his way out of that cave in a suit of armour. She couldn't just take that away from him and expect him to stay the man he'd matured into after he became a superhero.

He kissed her passionately, both hands cradling the sides of her face and crushing her lips to his for a precious few seconds before flying off to join the Avengers on their wild goose chase. Pepper watched him go sadly, standing alone on the roof of the Tower, already feeling like she lost him.

Their relationship remained intact for a few months after that. She tried to hide her disappointment that he was back in his workshop all the time, out saving the world all the time, never by her side all the time. But it was hard.

To his credit, he no longer avoided sleep like the plague and always joined her in their bed at some point. He remembered Date Night at least half the time and he tried to video chat during board meetings while he was firing repulsors at Hydra goons. He was trying and she loved him for that.

But it wasn't enough.

Still, she stayed. Tony drifted away from the company and she became the full-time CEO again. She knew that Tony loved her a lot more than many people gave him credit for, that he would give it all up if she really, really wanted him to. But that was just it. He _had_ given it up and she had let him and that had only been slightly better than this.

He was so much happier being Iron Man, being out there, flying around, saving the day, than he was with her. It took her a while to accept this, and when she did it fucking _hurt_ , but as before it was the truth. If anything, she was holding him back.

Being Iron Man made Tony happy. It gave him purpose and drive and ambition and Pepper couldn't take that away from him.

But she also couldn't bring herself to let go.

Tony created Ultron and Ultron killed hundreds of people. And JARVIS was a Vision in red (and robot parts). And Clint was retired and the New Avengers were assembled and Tony wasn't a part of it and… and…

Tony was drowning himself in guilt.

She tried _everything_.

Absolutely nothing was helping. Not comfort, not sex, not therapy, not brutal honesty, not coddling, not shaking him senseless… _Nothing_. He started drinking again, winding down this spiral descent into madness and she couldn't just sit there and _watch_.

So she left.

She packed up her bags and left in the middle of the night because she knew if he was awake he would beg her to stay. She would never be able to pull herself from his side if he did that. So she ran at two in the morning in tears and left him a message on his answering machine.

He needed to pick himself back up and it was something he needed to do alone.

Then they could talk about their future.

In the meantime, she would continue to run his company without his input and he would continue being an Avenger without hers.

It was almost like nothing had changed.

Except that she missed him like crazy. She needed him more than she realized. After about two weeks without his presence at all, she collapsed in the living room of her P.A.'s apartment and woke up the next evening with the neighbour who happened to be a doctor peering down at her.

Exhaustion, he said. Be careful not to overwork yourself, he said.

How ironic, she thought.

She found her own place after not too long. It was big and spacious and all too empty. There was no JARVIS and no Dummy and no Tony and she cried for almost two hours. It felt like grief and loss but it wasn't because none of those things were _gone_ , just _away_. She was being ridiculous.

It quickly became apparent that she had no life. When she wasn't busy running one of the biggest, most successful companies in the world, she was sleeping. With Date Night abolished, she had more time to work and that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Tony was doing better. She called him every now and again to check up on him but the conversations were short and to the point.

 _"I'm doing this for you,"_ he said. _"I'll get better and- and then I'll- and then we'll-"_

"Talk," she interrupted, clutching the phone to her ear. "Then we'll talk." She could hardly breathe. He'd pulled himself out of his own hell because of her. He was doing it _for_ her. And he still loved her, even after what she did. "I'm sorry," she breathed.

 _"Yeah. Me too."_


	4. The Lonely Witch

**A/N. Hello! I am back with a one-shot about Wanda and Vision, because they were adorable in this movie and I wanted more of them. Also: "Vizh, we talked about this." That got me thinking ;) So here you go! This takes place between AoU and CW. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer - I don't own anything.**

Her eyes opened to an unfamiliar place. She was up in seconds, rolling to her feet with her hands splayed out in front of her, fingers bent to coil the magic flowing through her veins. Her heart raced as she whipped her head around, examining the room from top to bottom.

She was alone. Furrowing her brow, she stretched her powers outward, eyes glowing and red magic dancing around the tips of her fingers. Her senses expanded like a bubble. There were people in the next room. She could feel four minds, two of them thinking so hard and so fast that she felt repelled by them, and the other two calmer, more exasperated. Further out were dozens more people, many not staying in one place. Voices, closer, further, she could judge their distance.

The Avengers. She recognized them. They were all here, all minding their own business. She could find no trace of herself in their thoughts, though the Captain had her name somewhere in the back of his mind. That wasn't saying much. He had everything at the back of his mind.

She was alone.

Pietro wasn't here. She couldn't sense him anywhere. That had never happened before, not since she got her powers. He was always near, usually _right there_. When they were both in good moods, their minds would be tightly woven, unbreakable.

Inseparable.

The space he was supposed to occupy in the corner of her mind ached with emptiness. He was supposed to be there. He _needed_ to be there. Why wasn't he there?

She knew. She knew but it was too painful to bear thinking about.

She'd seen it. She'd _felt it_. She knew with absolute, heart-breaking certainty that he was gone. His presence had faded from this world; had lingered just long enough for her to rip Ultron's heart out and then disappeared in a wink.

Wanda was alone.

Despite her best attempts, she couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way he smirked at her whenever he did anything without messing it up. About his constant joy and light to counterbalance her moodiness and pessimism. About the way they always held hands in the face of adversity.

Someone downstairs was thinking about him too. Wanda recognized him as Barton. Before she could pull away from him, she caught on to the guilt swirling in his mind and she saw what happened. It only took a split second but it was enough.

She'd seen her brother die.

Her strength disintegrated and she sank to the floor, curled in a ball of red and black. She was still dressed in the clothes she'd been wearing in battle, though her wounds had been dressed. Sucking in a breath, she reeled her powers back in, extracting herself from the minds of everyone in the building. In a second the voices silenced.

She was alone.

A sob tore through her and she let herself fall sideways, her face pressed into the floor and her hair warding away the light in the room. At that thought, the lights in the ceiling flashed and went out, shrouding her in darkness. She cried into the carpet, hopelessness ripping a hole in her soul and tearing the insides out like stuffing from a teddy bear.

A hand wrapped its long fingers around her shoulder and she leaped to her feet with a gasp and a blast of energy. She stood with her hands out in front of her and her hair blocking most of her face but there he was, floating in her room with one hand outstretched toward her, totally unaffected by the force of her power. The desk behind him was still rattling, the lamp shattered.

"Do not be afraid," he soothed, lowering himself to the floor noiselessly.

"I am not afraid," she bit back, curling her hands into fists but lowering them. Of all the emotions eating at her, fear was not one of them.

The man – _I want to be called Vision_ – merely blinked at her.

She raised an eyebrow. _You can project?_

 _I can do a great many things I have not thought possible_.

"Why are you here?" She croaked, her "r"s sounding like gargles.

"I sensed your pain," he replied simply, his hand still extended towards her.

She supposed his arm would never get tired so he could hold it there forever. "That doesn't explain why you are here."

"No, I supposed it doesn't." He glanced away for a second before looking back, their eyes catching. "I want to help."

"Help with what?" She asked. Her tongue felt like lead.

"Your pain," he answered. "I think I have devised a way to ease it."

Confusion lapped at her mind like gentle waves on the shore, pulling attention away from her grief. "Why…?" How could she voice what she felt? She swallowed painfully and tried again. "Why did you save me? In Sokovia, why did you save me?" She had not wanted to be saved.

"I sensed you," he said again. "I could not in good conscience leave you on that island to die; not if it was within my power to prevent it."

"You should have left me there," she whispered, turning her head away from him. "I was prepared to die. I felt like I already had. All I had to do was wait."

"Your brother would never have forgiven me."

Her eyes flashed. "Do not pretend to know anything about Pietro!" She yelled, scarlet invading her vision and dancing around her like a shield.

Vision finally lowered his arm. "I know enough," he said cryptically.

"You know nothing," she spat. "I don't want you here." The red aura around her coiled like snakes, hissing at him to leave.

Vision seemed to eye them slightly warily. "I only want to help."

"You cannot help someone who does not want it," she warned. "So get out."

"Wanda…"

"GET OUT!" Her magic shot toward him and shoved. He flew backward and ghosted through the wall, leaving it perfectly intact.

She was alone.

* * *

It was all a lie. The new hair. The new outfit. The new title. None of it felt real. So she pretended. She pretended she was an Avenger. She pretended she was fine. But she could not pretend that she didn't miss him.

She had gone to every resource, done every bit of research, tried everything she could. This world was new and different and impossible and it was like Strucker had said. It was the age of miracles. Wanda needed a miracle now more than ever. But nothing worked and nothing would _ever_ work, as became evident day after agonizing day.

Wanda was alone. She was the Scarlet Witch, part of the New Avengers in an attempt to redeem herself. But she also had nowhere else to go. Her home had been destroyed. Her family did not exist. Her resources were stolen by Hydra. She was stuck in America with these people whom she'd fought – whom she'd hated.

But the more they tried to talk to her, the more she realized that they were not bad people. They did questionable things, but so did she. They were the same, alike in ways that made Wanda uncomfortable.

Barton and Rogers made daily attempts to talk to her. She did not push them away, but she did not welcome them either. She was at a complete loss. Who was she without her brother? The Scarlet Witch? Who was that? Some moniker to live up to? A hero's alias. One the children of Sokovia had cheered once they'd realized they'd been saved. People had seen her at work, protecting them, helping them. They had deemed her as such, and her brother was dubbed Quicksilver.

He'd have loved that name.

He told her so in her dreams every night, speaking to her in hushed tones and telling her not to worry. He was safe now. He was in a place where he could run all he wanted, where he could feel no physical pain, where he could search for their parents.

"I miss you, Wanda," he'd whispered one night.

It had felt so _real_. Like she could feel his breath on her ear and his mind in the room. "I miss you too, Piet," she had said back.

And then she woke.

And she was alone.

She supposed it was meant to be cathartic, having his ghost reassure her in her dreams, but it only made her ache with missing him.

One day, during training at the facility, Wanda watched as Vision, Wilson, and Rhodes each flew in circles above her, drawing invisible patterns in the sky why she drew visible ones on the ground. And she wondered.

What would it be like to fly? To defy gravity and the laws of physics? To join her teammates in the air? She closed her eyes. Electricity seemed to crackle in the air around her. The blood in her veins began to glow with warmth and she felt… lighter. Slowly, she imagined herself floating, inch by inch. She pushed lightly on the heels of her feet and they rose obediently, followed by her toes until the tips of her shoes barely scraped the dirt. Her fingers twitched and bent like crooked branches, like she could control her magic the same way she could play the guitar.

She opened her eyes. The others were watching her and she could sense their awe. Ribbons of scarlet weaved around her gently, dancing as if stringing themselves together to make a basket to hold her up. Experimentally, she pushed a little harder, imagining her magic like hands shoving the ground away from her. She shot up several more feet, the air parting around her and pulling at her hair.

She smiled.

This was _easy_.

With something that might have been a laugh, Wanda took off, soaring through the field like a bird. She flew circles around Sam, leaving a trail of red in her wake like a rocket might leave smoke. "Now we are even," she teased, hovering in front of him.

Sam snorted. "Says the girl who can move things with her mind."

"You misunderstand me," she replied. "I meant we are _literally_ even. But soon I will be higher." She grinned and spun, propelling herself up, up, up.

Sam grinned too. "Oh, you're on!" He zoomed after.

Rhodey's face plate swung back into place and he fired up his thrusters. "Hey, wait for me!" He took off as well.

Vision floated calmly near the others, watching them rise higher and higher. He eyed them speculatively for a while, before following. His cape swooshed behind him, flapping uselessly at his back and legs. When he reached the others, they seemed to be dancing, swirling and twisting in dizzying lines around one another.

Wanda was laughing, flying circles around the so-called "pilots" and dodging their every attempt to catch her. It was almost like when she and her brother were little and they'd played tag, always trying to outrun the other. But this was more fun.

Sam and Rhodey were determined not to be bested by a newbie and began performing intricate maneuvers. Sam flipped and dropped and glided beautifully. Rhodey was less graceful, but no less skilled and activated and de-activated the thrusters as needed to swoop like a predator and grab a fistful of grass from the ground down below without hitting anything. Wanda couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun and was grateful that the others were willing to indulge her. She was also grateful that Steve and Natasha couldn't fly.

For the first time in a long time, Wanda didn't feel so alone.

* * *

Pietro stopped visiting her at night. Instead, his death would replay over and over and over and _oh_ this was much worse. A hoarse cry escaped her and she lashed out. Something sparked and exploded. Something else shattered. Something was twisted around her legs and she kicked at them furiously. _Get them off! GET THEM OFF!_ Her temples were wet with tears and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing more down the sides of her face.

Yellow penetrated the red, twisting and tangling together like ropes with minds of their own. They tied themselves together and pulled taut, straight and unmoving and _calm._ Wanda relaxed into the mattress, an inexplicable feeling of connection plucked like a string somewhere in her soul.

The yellow was safe and strong and tranquil. She could trust it. It would keep the nightmares away. She was no longer alone.

Sleep consumed her.

* * *

Vision was fascinating. His mind was neat and organized and orderly and compartmentalized. Of course, she realized he was an android and it was therefore only logical that he thought like a computer. But what made him so fascinating were the messy parts or the parts he left blank. He could only store so much information inside his head, most of which seemed to be data on how humans operated both physically and socially. He was always overanalyzing human movements and emotions and she thought it was cute.

She did her best to help him, though she was far from the best person to do so, she was the only one who could really see how he felt. She introduced him to the idea of hobbies and habits and interests and passions. She felt comfortable around him in a way that made her feel like she could tell him anything and he would never judge her. He had no basis on which to do so for most things anyway. He was curious about the world and about her and always willing to learn. His presence was strong and steadfast and stalwart. He was like a rock, trustworthy and dependable. In the wake of what happened in Sokovia, a rock had been exactly what she'd needed.

In a way, she was exactly what he'd needed too. He was powerful and different and new and he had so many questions. She was the answer to all of them. Or rather, she _had_ the answer to all of them. Most of them.

She taught him about cooking and food and how it was considered an art form. She used to cook around the house before her parents died and she'd tried to continue afterward, but opportunities for such a thing were few and far between. At the facility, she was trying to get back into it. Cooking always reminded her of her mother.

 _She's with Pietro. They've found each other_. It was something she believed to the depths of her soul. Her family was together and they were waiting for her. _Some day_ , she promised them. _Some day._

Clint had bought her a guitar. He'd bought it online and shipped it to her for their birthday. _Her_ birthday. It was weird, not having to share it (share anything), but she was starting to get used to it, as awful as that made her feel. For a long time, she didn't touch it. But after the grief of their birthday wore off, she tentatively picked up.

She strummed almost shyly. The notes shivered in the air and she smiled. It was just like she remembered. Papa used to play it all the time, sometimes when it was inappropriate just to make them laugh. Papa was always making them laugh.

She strummed again, tuning the instrument experimentally. The music rang throughout her bedroom, echoing off the walls and the trinkets in her room. She closed her eyes, remembering her Papa's hands over hers, showing her how to play. Her fingers moved of their own accord and a melody hummed from the strings.

"Wanda-"

With a gasp, Wanda jumped to her feet and spun, her blood heating up as she flung out a hand. A blast of red energy shot through the air, passed through Vision, and slammed into the wall behind him, shaking the desk beneath it. With her other hand, Wanda clutched the neck of the guitar tighter as she stared angrily at her intruder. "Vision!" She hissed.

He blinked, obviously sensing her emotions. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "I didn't mean to startle you."

She huffed, blowing a puff of air into the strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. She had taught him sincerity and Vision didn't have it in him to lie straight to her face. But she hadn't heard the door open. "Did you phase through the door?"

"The floor, actually."

That did not help his case. "Vision, you cannot phase through people's bedrooms when their doors are closed. It means they do not want to be disturbed."

He glanced at the door, hopefully noticing that she had locked it. He swung his gaze back to hers. "Ah. My apologies." He paused, hesitating about something. "Would it be more proper to knock?"

She nodded. "Yes. But you are already here so there's no point now."

"Oh." He adjusted the sweater he was wearing. It was such a human thing to do that Wanda almost didn't notice. But then she did and raised her eyebrows. Androids didn't fidget.

Vision seemed to take her expression as a prompt to continue speaking. "I simply wished to give you this." He held out one hand, palm up, to reveal a small ring.

Wanda tilted her head curiously. She set the guitar carefully on the floor and stepped closer. She glanced up at him once before taking the ring. She inspected it from every angle. The band was sterling silver and curved into gentle waves that twisted around the finger. It was simple and elegant and beautiful. She looked up at him, unsure whether she should be suspicious or grateful or both. "What for?"

"Your birthday was a few days ago. I wished to give you this then, but Steve warned me that that might be unwise and that I should wait." He eyed the guitar Clint had gifted her.

Wanda could not read his gaze, but she could read his emotions. "It arrived early by accident," she said. "Steve was right to tell you that. I would not have accepted this." She returned her attention to the ring, brushing the pads of her fingers over the metal. It was warm.

"And now?"

Their eyes met and she smiled as she slipped it on. "I love it. Thank you." But something was bothering her. "How did you get the idea of buying me a ring?"

"Mr. Stark- Tony suggested it."

Her eyebrows rose higher. "I believe he was joking with you."

Vision seemed genuinely surprised. "Really?"

She laughed, covering her mouth with her hand. "Really. A man only buys a woman a ring when he wants to marry her."

Vision blinked. "I was aware of this." He blinked again, which spoke volumes considering androids didn't need to blink. " _Only_ for marriage?"

Her smile widened. "Well, perhaps also for other romantic purposes. Like a promise ring."

"A promise ring?"

"It is like a ring a man gets for a woman before they are married, like a promise that they will be married some day, or a promise that he will stay faithful or that he will always love her."

Vision looked thoughtful. "Then I promise to always be there for you when you need me."

Moved, Wanda gently touched his arm. "Vizh, you don't have to make me any promises."

Confusion radiated from his mind. "But I want to."

And just like that, Wanda Maximoff knew that she would never be alone again.


	5. A Phone Call

**A/N. Hello, everyone! Holy crap has it been a busy... well... however long I've been gone. I bet you all thought I'd dropped off the face of planet, huh? Well, mostly not true. I'm still on the planet, but I'm incredibly busy. I was working two jobs for a while (still technically am, but that's almost over, thank God) and I moved and things got hectic. Now, this post isn't to say I'm back necessarily. But I was really bored at work and ended up writing three super short drabbles I'd been meaning to write forever. So here they are!**

 **This one hopefully fleshes out Steve and Sharon a little bit pre-Civil War. I always thought there was something missing between Winter Soldier and Civil War. Enjoy :D**

 **Disclaimer - I own nothing**

* * *

Steve calls.

It takes a lot of persuasion from Natasha and Sam, but Steve calls.

It rings. Once. Twice. It clicks.

 _"Hello?"_ Her voice is soft, well-spoken. He can picture her so easily now. Exactly the way he remembers. Does she still look like that? Is that what she always looked like?

"Hi," he says, a little breathless. And then… "Hi."

There's a confused chuckle on her end. _"Who is this?"_

He clears his throat. "Steve." It occurs to him that she might know other Steves. "Uh, Rogers." He waits, holding his breath.

" _Steve_ ," she says after a beat. It may just be wishful thinking, but she sounds as breathless as he does. _"How-? How did you get this number?"_

"Natasha," he replies too quickly, eager to have someone to blame should this not go the way he wants it to.

" _Of course_ ," she sighs.

Steve can easily picture her running a hand over her hair, tied up in a messy bun like it always was when she did the dishes. He wonders if that was real. If any of it was.

" _What can I do for yo_ u?" She sounds polite. Formal. Maybe a little distant.

He can't really blame her. "I, uh, just- I was just calling to…" Why was he calling again? "Ahem. Will you-? Would like to-?" He sighs and laughs at how pathetic he is. "Sharon, may I take you to dinner?"

There's a long silence.

 _"Why?"_

He blinks, not having anticipated that response. It was a yes or no question after all. "Why?" He repeats, trying to understand.

"I thought- Steve, I-" She pauses as Steve's gut tightens. He prepares for a no. "You're not still… upset?"

Oh. That. "Well," he starts, lowering himself into an armchair. He's grateful to have a place to stay at Tony's as long as its got furniture this comfy. "I got over it," he confesses, his voice echoing in the large bedroom he has all to himself. It's too much and yet not enough at the same time and he'll never be able to pay Tony back for this. But he's got other matters on his mind.

She waits for an explanation.

"It was your job to watch over me," he continues. "You had strict orders and you obeyed them. Did you have to flirt with me? No. But it's not like I made it any easier."

She laughs. _"No, you did not."_

"Just… tell me it wasn't all a lie. That it wasn't just Kate who stayed up talking to me and brought me cookies and smiled like I… I don't know. Like I meant something to her. Tell me you weren't pretending."

She doesn't hesitate. _"I wasn't."_

* * *

He takes her to Brooklyn in Tony's quinjet and shows her his favourite pizzeria. They chat and they laugh and she spills tomato sauce on her blouse. Afterward, they find a nice coffee shop so she can pay him back for a load of laundry never done. They walk hand-in-hand down the street as he points out places he remembers and places he doesn't.

She asks about Bucky.

Somehow, Steve ends up telling her everything. He eventually stops talking long enough to be kissed by her. It's spontaneous and intense and entirely her prompting. The next one is planned, softer, and this time he leans in first.

* * *

He takes her back to Washington and kisses her goodnight. For a while, that's that. They call and text and Skype, but it's hard to see each other in person when she's in the CIA and he's an Avenger and they're both looking for the same person.

Weeks pass, then months and still they haven't been together since that night.

Then they find him. Bucky. And you know what happens next.


	6. What She Does Best

**A/N. Yeah, I'm gonna post this all at once. After the next drabble, I will mark this story completed :) I really wanted to explore where the heck Natasha could have gone after Civil War, but wasn't very creative so I apologize. None of these drabbles are particularly good, I must admit. They're also very short. But they're written (and published!) and that's the most important part. Enjoy :D**

 **Disclaimer - Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios and Marvel in general (and also Disney) own pretty much everything.**

* * *

Natasha does what she does best.

She disappears.

Her world fell apart _again_. That's the second time in three years. She's a fugitive again, but really she never stopped being one. The world-shaking thing is that Captain America, one of Natasha's best friends, is also a fugitive. That time SHIELD went after them didn't count because they were actually Hydra. This time, they were fugitives from the actual good guys.

Well.

Sort of.

Tony Stark, someone who could've been a close friend to Natasha had either of them ever made an effort to get over what happened with Natalie Rushman, was hunting them both down. Perhaps 'hunting' was a strong word, but he was definitely looking for them so he could turn them in.

Clint was in a prison built to contain Enhanced, as were Wanda, Sam, and some other guy who could change his size. SHIELD was down. Fury was "dead". Hill was in the wind. Natasha's allies may be dwindling, but she still had contacts.

She found herself in Singapore with dark brown hair and glasses, browsing the market for her weekly groceries. This was what she'd wanted: to run away. To leave the world of spies, heroes, and villains behind. To avoid the politics and the betrayals and the pain of loss. She'd just hoped (naively) that she wouldn't have to do it alone anymore. But Clint was in prison or with his family, if Steve had broken him out like she knew he would, and she couldn't bring herself to visit him. She knew he'd worry about her.

But she worried about him more.

Steve had to watch out for Bucky and everyone knows three's company.

And Bruce…

Bruce had run from her.

She was a monster. So here she was, hiding like a coward from the world. From her problems. From her friends.

Steve would not approve.

Inspecting an apple, twisting it this way and that, Natasha made a decision. She tossed the apple back to the merchant, who barely managed to catch it with the tips of his fingers. By the time he did, Natasha was already halfway down the path, pulling her headscarf off and tossing it into the wind.

Being alone is boring, she'd decided.

 _To hell with that._


	7. Some Advice

**A/N. Here it is! The final addition to Civil War: Deleted Scenes. If you're reading this, I'm very happy because I'm surprised anyone still knows this fic exists considering how long I was gone. In any case, I can finally say I've completed something now. In the meantime, I saved the best of my most recent three drabbles for last. I wanted to try my hand at Vision post-Civil War and his headspace. Enjoy :D And thanks for reading!**

 **Disclaimer - you know the drill**

* * *

Vision needed help. The person he always went to for this sort of situation was… unavailable. And the Internet was great for looking at options, but it wasn't ideal for deciphering emotions. As far as Vision could tell, what plagued him was guilt; guilt for shooting down someone he hadn't been aiming for. Guilt for injuring him beyond repair. Guilt for not knowing what to do about it.

Wanda would know what to do. She was much more knowledgeable when it came to emotions and much more helpful. But she... was unavailable.

Mr. Stark was almost as useless as Vision himself. The only person who might be able to provide valuable insight was Colonel Rhodes himself. So Vision set out to speak with him.

The Colonel was in his room and appeared to be playing video games. Vision knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Vision phased into the room, stepping in an empty pizza box. Rhodes lay on his bed with his back against the wall and a blanket over his lap. He held a Playstation controller in his hands, fingers flying over the buttons as he stared at the big screen TV across the room.

Rhodes glanced at Vision before returning his attention to the screen. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping you could help me resolve an issue I've been having," said Vision.

"Shoot."

"Pardon?"

"What's the problem?" Rhodes rephrased, ducking his head as he pressed the buttons more forcefully.

"I seem to be wracked with guilt over your current condition."

The game paused midway through some sort of race. Rhodes turned to him. "Oh, really?"

Vision was unable to decipher his tone. He nodded. "I believe I understand why this upsets me, however, I fail to understand why I still feel this way after apologizing to you."

Rhodes set the controller aside and hefted himself closer to the wall so he could sit up properly. "Look, Vision, 'sorry' doesn't always make things better. You can't fix my problem; therefore, you can't fix yours."

"Am I to feel this way forever?" It was a fair question asked without a hint of resentment; only curiousity.

Rhodes shrugged. "There's no sure-fire way to make it go away. It's very possible that that feeling's just going to have to be something you're gonna live with. Lots of people do."

"How?"

Rhodes threw his legs over the side of bed with a grunt. "It gets easier. Pass me my legs, would you?" He pointed at the prosthetics Stark had fashioned for him. They leaned against the wall just out of Rhodes' reach.

Vision obliged.

"Thanks," said Rhodes as he began to lace them up like a pair of running shoes.

"You speak as though from experience, Colonel," said Vision.

Rhodes chuckled. "That's 'cause I do." He stood, a little shaky at first, and looked Vision in the eyes. "You ruined my life. You shot me. Paralyzed me. There's not taking any of that back. You can't backspace or hit delete. It's there permanently, stained in ink on a page you're forced to look at every day. You are not allowed to forget. That is a part of what makes us human. That's what you want, isn't it? To be like humans?"

This time, Vision could detect a hint of resentment and bitterness in Rhodes' tone. Vision felt like he was being scrutinized, which was odd considering he spent most of his time scrutinizing others.

"I want to understand them," Vision said finally.

"Understand this." There was no venom in his voice, but a steely resolve took its place as Rhodes stepped closer. "Guilt prevents us from making the same mistakes over again. It weighs on us to catch our attention and warn us about next time. Guilt means that you understand what went wrong and why it shouldn't have happened. And guilt goes a long way in getting someone to forgive you. So let yourself feel it. Hate it. Be angry at it. But don't ignore it. _Use it_. And make sure this never happens again." Rhodes walked around Vision and out the door, video game forgotten.

Vision stood there for several minutes, one foot still in the pizza box.


End file.
